


Caged Animal

by perhapsless



Category: In the Bleak Midwinter (Webcomic)
Genre: ....its just smut my dudes, ?? i guess, F/M, Voyeurism, delta is jealous on a number of levels but this isn't about him, done, he is OVER IT, he's definitely not ready to acknowledge how much he's into being called sir, i mean they don't call him the wolf for nothing, specifically by her i dont think he's into it when the watchers do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:00:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29419029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perhapsless/pseuds/perhapsless
Summary: Anya has a terrible idea, and Omega suffers for it.
Relationships: Anya/Omega, Omega/Anya
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Caged Animal

  
It’s a good thing, in retrospect, that he has his senses turned down so far when it happens. 

The wind is biting at his skin with abandon, swirls of ice and gnashing teeth flying rampant in the air around him. They’re in the far north, deep in the tundra, stationed at the top of a crest and lying in wait. He’s standing with his brother, silently stalking the empty terrain, lurking for prey like a lion on the prowl. 

Delta is lost in thought, he knows, preoccupied with the inner mechanisms of his cufflinks as he ponders the most recent victory. They’d blown through the human forces easily, catching them off-guard and surrounding on all sides. A victory too easily-won tends to set Delta on edge. Something about it feels wrong, Omega agrees, but he’s less concerned. 

Or maybe he’s just distracted.

It’s been three weeks since he’s seen Anya’s face in person, and truthfully, his memories simply don’t do her justice. They’ve been in contact, but the nature of the battalion’s movements renders their moments short and brisk, and Omega longs for when he’s back in his own bed, her firmly in his arms, her hair slipping between his fingers. Just being with her, really. Talking. _Or_ _not_ _talking_. 

So when he realizes the transmission he’s receiving is from Anya and not Delta simply being too lazy to speak aloud, he’s taken aback. It’s difficult to catch up on over two decades of technology, and while she’s kept up admirably with most of it, transmissions aren’t exactly human real estate. 

Then again, he’s still not sure she’s wholly human. In his softer moments, he thinks maybe an angel. 

But what he sees through his HUD is certainly  _ not _ angelic, at least not in any Abrahmic faith he’s aware of. 

Only the very lowest part of her face is visible, her plump lips and soft chin, the lines of her collarbones, her long blonde hair flowing gently over her breasts like streams of gold. He can just make out the peaks of her nipples behind it, pink and warm and inviting, before he realizes that what she’s doing is  _ certainly  _ not for public viewing. 

Still, it’s an impressive feat to pause the transmission, especially as he watches her hand dip between her open thighs. 

_ Fuck.  _

He takes a moment, swallowing thickly, willing his eyes to dim as he stares into the tundra. The sight of her fingers climbing down the skin of her belly, her knees slowly, torturously parting for him, is imprinted on his vision like sunspots, and he doesn’t trust himself to move.

Except he very much needs to, because the tightness in his groin is rapidly becoming unmanageable, and Delta isn’t  _ that  _ distracted. He’s not going to make it ten minutes, let alone the rest of the hour, but there’s not much reason for him to leave. There’s only so long he can stand here, trying to adjust himself without calling attention to the prominent bulge in his trousers, and he weighs his options.

He remembers the way her lips parted as her fingers slowly divided her folds, and decides he doesn’t particularly care. If Delta is confused as to why his brother spins on his heel and walks towards his tent, he doesn’t ask. 

He’s barely closed the door when he opens the message again, this time from the beginning. The tent walls are sturdy enough to lean against, thankfully, because he’s barely ten seconds in, and he’s already unbuttoning his trousers.

He is going to absolutely  _ wreck  _ her for this. 

She’s perched on the edge of his bed in broad daylight, her golden hair flowing over and around her breasts, her nipples pebbling and holding taut before his eyes. Her legs spread open painfully slowly as her hand traces down to the skin of her inner thigh, halting there for a moment. He groans quietly, his hand wrapping around his shaft as she finally spreads open.

He’s well acquainted at this point, yet still her pussy manages to be the most intoxicating thing he’s ever seen. His mouth waters at the sight of it, desperately missing the taste of her, the feel of her against his mouth, his tongue. Her fingers finally dip into her folds and he watches her toss her head back, her throat exposed as she traces a line upward to her clit. 

Finally, she speaks, and he automatically gives his length a pump, her soft, breathy voice shattering any semblance of self-control he has left. 

“God, I miss you.” 

She adjusts slightly and now the rest of her face is in the frame, her eyelids fluttering as she strokes herself, her breasts heaving slowly in rhythm. “My fingers aren’t enough,” she continues, and her other hand comes up from the bed to tease her nipple, pinching and rolling it the way  _ he _ does. “It’s not the same. Sometimes I lay in bed and touch myself and all I can think is  _ he does this so much better. _ ”

She’s making eye contact now, soft whimpers starting to escape from her parted lips. His gaze roams her face, her green eyes, the planes of her cheekbones, her plump lips. Fuck, he misses her. Misses her more when she keeps speaking. 

“Last night I thought about your cock in my mouth,” she continues, her head tilting back again as she slips a finger inside herself. He swallows thickly, his fingers traveling to the head of his dick, teasing the tip as he remembers the feel of her mouth there. “I know you like me on my knees. I know you like it when I choke. When I swallow like a good girl.” 

He’s bites back a groan at the memory, her eyes wide and her hair tangled in his hands as he guides her mouth along his shaft. The self control it takes not to finish himself off is gargantuan, but he has two minutes and thirty-three seconds left of transmission and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t see every second. 

Her breath is heavier now, a second finger joining the first as she pumps herself. “It’s not enough,” she whispers, “It never is. I’m always waiting for you to come and finish the job and you never do.” Her hand is splayed against her breast now, her thighs trembling. “I keep thinking about how you hold me down when you’re eating me out,” she continues, slipping her fingers out to stroke along her slit, her eyes fluttering shut. 

_ Fuck _ , he misses that more than anything right now. She’s spread wide for him, and his movements are jerkier now as he stares at her perfect cunt, beautiful, soaking for him. And she knows his weaknesses too well.

“It’s yours, you know,” she whimpers, “All yours. Don’t you miss it?” And he  _ does,  _ he wants her more than anything, certainly more, at this moment, then he wants any kind of war. It’s her profession of being his that does it, that takes his possessive side and brings him almost to the edge. He needs her, now, naked and beneath him, his hand around her throat as he takes her again and again.

_ Mine. _

“Omega,” she keens, breathless, “Come back and get it,” and she’s coming, her head thrown back, breasts thrust forward, her chest shivering as she rides her own hand. He’s not too far behind, his hand woefully insignificant as he pumps himself to release. Really, it’s all  _ her,  _ and he can’t look away, replays her falling apart again and again. 

She takes a moment to catch her breath, then stares into the screen, her eyes still dark and wanting, and he’s never been so  _ hungry _ . She giggles, a little self conscious, her hands bunching into the fabric of his comforter. 

_ Don’t you dare hide yourself from me. _

“God, I’m going crazy. Just come back, Omega, I miss you. I’m literally going insane,” she laughs, still out of breath, “If that isn’t obvious.” 

The transmission ends, and he considers calling the campaign off immediately. 

……………………..

[Incoming message: 14:05:45, Anya_main base]: Did that work?

[Outgoing message: 14:05:58, Omega_field]: I’m coming back in one week. 

[Incoming message: 14:06:15, Anya_main base]: Make it sooner.

[Outgoing message: 14:06:21, Omega_field]: You’re in trouble. 

………………………

She sends him another video just as he’s directing a squadron to infiltrate a human stakehold. He gets just a glimpse of her, face down in his bed, ass up, fingers at her clit before he has to shut it off. For hours, he can hardly look at a stable surface without thinking about how she’d look bent over it, wet and ready for him. 

……………………

[Outgoing message: 17:25:08, Omega_field]: I’m coming back in three days. Get some rest, you won’t be sleeping for a while. 

……………………

The third message comes the day before he’s to return. She’s wearing nothing but one of his shirts. She licks her fingers afterwards, asks him if he misses how she tastes. He makes a mental note, in the list of things he plans on doing to her on arrival, to pull her onto his face and hold her there until she’s screaming his name. 

………………….

[Outgoing message:06:55:18, Omega_field]: Back in three hours. Wait in my room. Don’t wear anything you’re attached to.

[Incoming message: 06:56:15, Anya_main base]: Bold of you to think I’m wearing anything.

[Outgoing message:06:56:24, Omega_field]: Bold of you to think I’m not going to tear you apart.

[Incoming message: 06:56:45, Anya_main base]: Are you sure? Should I be scared of the big, bad wolf?

[Outgoing message:06:57:05, Omega_field]: You’re going to regret that.

[Incoming message: 06:57:15, Anya_main base]: Then show me, ~sir~.

…………………….

Delta knows, or at least has an inkling of why Omega has suddenly decided the campaign wasn’t worth the time. He mostly acquiesces due to boredom; he’s never been fond of the cold, and the fucking tundra isn’t territory he’s endlessly devoted to, either. 

Still, the fact that his War General, the Big, Bad Wolf, he who strikes fear into any sane mortal, is ruled over by a human woman that barely reaches his shoulder is both annoying and entertaining. 

There’s jealousy there, of course. He’s never felt envious of the soul mark on his brother’s wrist, not until he meets the woman that shares it. She’s beautiful, this cannot be denied, but more importantly she’s beguiling and intelligent and charming and the fire that burns in her is absolutely intoxicating. Not at all like most humans, regretfully. 

Still, it’s his brother. He keeps the burning jealousy to a minimum, a low simmer at the back of his mind, but it’s there, nonetheless. 

They just don’t make them like that anymore.

……………………

  
  


The temporary shelter at the edge of town is just too close for Omega’s liking, and he paces, frustrated. They’ve had to pause in their return for scouting, an unfortunate necessity, but he can practically  _ smell  _ her from here and the knowledge that he’s trapped a mere few miles from her is  _ maddening _ . 

Delta is watching him with some amusement.

“Not for nothing that we call you Wolf,” he says, perched in his chair. “You’re pacing like a caged zoo animal. Relax, brother, we’re all too close to home.” 

Omega doesn’t dignify it with a response, settling by the door, leaning against the wall. 

“I take it she’s learned how to use the hologram projector?” 

Omega raises an eyebrow at him. “And I take it you’re aware of her little project?” 

  
“What, to drive you insane? I only know she wanted to get you home sooner. I can only  _ imagine  _ what methods she’s using.” Omega shrugs, his jaw ticking, confirming Delta’s suspicions. He’s noticed him immediately dimming his lights, adjusting himself, looking both annoyed and frustrated in a very  _ specific  _ manner.

Delta leans back in his chair, ankle crossed elegantly over his knee, the slight trace of a smirk evident on his mouth. "Well, little brother," he murmurs, "You've got quite the wildcat on your hands. I do hope you know how to  _ handle _ it properly." 

Omega's no fool, he knows how Delta looks at her, knows that the weeks spent tracking him down brought them closer together. He knows his brother grew a little more than  _ fond _ , and perhaps more importantly, knows she's  _ exactly _ his flavor. 

He also knows Delta would never, ever do anything to hurt him. He's not concerned. Still, it's always best to keep one's eyes off one's brother's wife. 

"She's clearly being handled well, considering the effort she's making to bring me home. Shall I give you pointers?"

The barb hits exactly where he intends, and Delta’s mouth straightens. He considers the territory well marked. 

…………………….

[Incoming message: 10:01:26, Anya_main base]: I can feel you here. Come find me.

…………………….

  
  


She’s wearing a particularly nice set of crimson panties and one of his best shirts, presumably hoping it would discourage him from ripping both to shreds. A faulty wish, but he can appreciate the fruits of her labor. 

She hasn’t followed his instructions. He thinks he might be fine with that, actually.

He’d stormed through the base to her, androids scattering in his wake. His wrist is pulsing, more and more frequently as he gets close to her, and he follows her call like a bloodhound.

She’s in his room. Their room, really, as often as he keeps her in his bed. He’s not sure why they haven’t made that official and makes a note to have her things moved as soon as possible. 

She’s not leaving any time soon.

She jolts slightly as he storms in, slamming the door shut, and she hardly has time to react before he’s got her shoved against the wall, his mouth hungry on hers. For a moment he allows himself just to relish in kissing her, her taste sweet and heavy on his tongue, her body warm and pliant against him. 

He never gets tired of it. 

Still, he’s making a  _ point,  _ today, and he resolves to turn his senses down, just enough that he can outlast what he plans on doing to her. She’s tortured him for a week, and he’s not stopping until she’s begging for release, until she’s red and panting and desperate. 

His lips wander to her throat, sucking harshly at the skin there as she scrabbles for purchase against his back. She gasps, her fingers knotting in his hair. 

“Welcome back.” 

Wrong move. He stops, wrapping a hand around both thighs and hoisting them around her waist as if she didn’t weigh a thing, and pushes her harder into the wall. His gloved hand wraps around her jaw, his thumb just barely at the corner of her mouth. 

“Not a word, sweetheart. You’re in  _ trouble.  _ I’m not letting you come anytime soon.” 

Her eyes widen as he moves his hand down to wrap around her throat, pressing just enough to make her core flood, and she whimpers. “I take it you didn’t like my little videos?”

He removes one of his gloves just before plunging his fingers between her thighs, groaning at the wetness already present. She’s ready for him, and it takes a fantastical amount of restraint not to give in. “Your  _ videos, _ ” he growls, and his gaze goes impossibly darker, “Were  _ cruel.  _ Do you have any idea what it does to me when I’m out there, knowing what’s back here?” 

She whimpers as his fingers stroke her, slow and purposeful. “You were gone for a  _ month,”  _ she manages. “I needed yo-.” He cuts her off, his mouth firm and unyielding against hers as he rips off her shirt.  _ His  _ shirt. 

He’s still wearing his coat, so he slides that and his other glove off as he kisses her, deep and slow and forceful, reveling in her moans and whimpers. He likes her best like this, likes her powerless and shuddering and begging for more. Her hands are exploring his chest, trying to remove it, but he stops her, his fingers easily dwarfing her wrist. 

“No.” It’s firm, authoritative, and she shivers a bit as she wraps her arms around his neck instead. His hands instead linger around her breasts, rolling the nipples just like she’d mimicked, his lips traveling to her collar bone. 

“Fuck, Omega, I missed this.” 

“What did I say about talking?” 

He continues his path downward, taking her teat into his mouth and biting. Shudders roll across her body like ocean waves, and he notes, with satisfaction, that she’s already on the edge. 

“What did I say about coming?” 

Her lids are heavy when he looks back at her, her skin flushed, her hair a mess, her lips swollen. It’s fucking addictive.

“Please, Omega, I’m sor-” 

“No, you little minx, you’re absolutely not. I’m not, either, but fair’s fair. I couldn’t come after that last video for  _ hours.”  _

So he pauses a moment, letting her come down, holding her still when she tries to grind against him. She shoots him a desperate look and he relishes it. 

He pushes her panties to the side, he pulls himself, hard and straining, out of his trousers and eases into her in one fell stroke. Her head falls back, her eyes closing as she takes him, and it takes him a moment to recover himself. 

Even with his senses turned down to 20%, there’s nothing quite like her pussy quivering around him. Nor the sense of  _ rightness  _ that floods through his being, the feel of his soul finally healed and whole. 

But he has a point to make, and he’s stubborn enough to not let himself have this, not yet. He turns his senses down to 10. 

And slams into her, his mouth against her teat, one hand full of her ass, the other choking her just enough to keep her pliant. Again, and again, keeping his eye on her heart rate, on the pulses around him, on the rate of her gasps- 

And then he’s out of her, a small part of him bemoaning the loss of her heat. She stares at him, panting, her expression woeful. 

Perhaps slightly regretful. 

His eyes are glinting, and she swallows thickly. 

“On your knees. Now.” 

……………………………

It’s been nearly an hour. She’s sucked him off, the taste of him bittersweet on her tongue, under firm orders not to relieve herself, even as he comes into her again and again.The pressure between her thighs is painful, now, and she worries she’ll finish just at the thought of relief. He’s had her face down, his hand tangled harshly in her hair, he’s had her against the wall, he’s had her on her knees. 

She still hasn’t been allowed to come. He stops her short every time, holding her waist down even as she jerks against him.

The videos were an  _ excellent  _ idea. 

………………………

She gasps, finally managing to ease herself off his mouth to lean against his bare chest, every part of her throbbing. She’s so close, and she thinks this time he might let her- 

But it’s almost impossible to balance above him when his tongue is fondling her like that, when he's licking at her so slowly and surely. 

“Did I say you could stop?” Omega’s eyes are almost pitch-black, his face soaked from her, his hands lazily stroking her thighs. "I haven't had a taste of you in weeks. I'm not finished." She shakes her head, still trembling. 

“No, sir,” and she sees something flash in his gaze, his hands- impossible to fight- already starting to pull her back up. “But I can’t...I can’t keep myself up anymore. It’s too much.” 

He blinks at her, and his gaze is quizzical. “Keep yourself up?” 

“So I don’t crush you,” she explains, her face heating up. “You know…” 

He laughs despite himself, his chest moving beneath her. “Carbon-titanium jaw. Just take a seat.” 

She blinks, her jaw falling open, and he pulls her resolutely onto his mouth again. Her knees are shaking, still unable to support her weight-

And then his tongue fondles her entrance, his thumb playing at her clit, and she gives up. 

………………………….

When Omega decides to let her come, he does it six times. She’s almost crying by the end of it, too weak to hold on anymore, her hands in his hair as he pounds her into the bed, stretching her, tearing her apart. 

His last stroke is long and deep, his gaze firmly on hers, and she swears she hears God.

…………………………

She’s curled up against his chest, still shivering slightly, and his hands are gentle now as they roam over her body. His lips travel lazily across her hair, over her cheeks, her nose, her lips, and she thinks maybe this is what heaven is like. 

“Please don’t leave for that long again,” she whispers against his skin. He tilts her chin up, kisses her slow and soft. She can still taste a bit of herself on his lips.

“I missed you too much. I don’t think I’ll be of use if I leave that long again,” he admits. He pulls the comforter across her shoulders, the warmth of his body slowly soothing her tremors. “Delta just simply isn’t as charming as you are.” 

She giggles, nuzzling her nose into his shoulder, and his arms tighten around her. 

She’s already planning her next video. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i might go in and add more spice to the end, but i really wanted the focus to be on her teasing him. rip, anya. she couldn't walk for days after.
> 
> also this kind of power bottom hoe energy FUCKERY is exactly why delta is panting after her. poor guy. it's okay, delta boy, omega has her handled just fine.


End file.
